Chapter Six
The Masque of the Red Death Inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's Masterpiece A Story Collaboration Written by Kiara Phoenix, Bridgette Montello, Jessica Jean, Sara Dombrowski, Britny Stewart, and Raymee Sullivan Chapter Six This chapter is told in the perspective of Raymee Sullivan WARNING: This is an everything-goes fan fiction. Fiction may contain violence, strong language, and sexual themes. You have been forewarned. When I was a little girl, I used to have night terrors. For those of you who aren't aware what a night terror is exactly, it's basically a mixture of a nightmare and sleepwalking, and it's actually a lot more common than you would think. You see, in the middle of the night a person will suddenly get up and start walking around and talking. They act as though they are wide awake, but are actually in an incredibly deep sleep. What is happening is that the person is having a nightmare, though it might always appear like it. They will walk, stumble, and mutter strange and unusual things while being completely unaware of their surroundings. Of course, they are aware of their dreams. Some react differently to this disorder, some are calm and placid, while others are screaming and crying trying to get away from whatever evil entity is chasing them. And you know the worst part? They can't even wake up from it. If you happened to chance upon a person with this situation and even ignored the usual advice of never waking a person who is sleepwalking, and tried to wake them yourselves it would do no good. They are in such a deep state of sleep that it's impossible to rouse them out of their waking slumber. Not even a cup of water to the face will faze them. It's literally a nightmare that they cannot wake from. …Although, perhaps mercifully, they cannot remember a single thing the next morning. That was basically the routine from when I was four to six years old. But as I grew older, I grew out of my night terrors as children normally do. My mother told me that when I had night terrors I would walk blindly in the dark hallways of our house, whimpering and crying for hours. I had always wondered what my terrors had been about to make me so afraid. I wonder if they were anything like this. Because this place, this situation, felt like a living nightmare. I had been both surprised and unsurprised when "Waldo" had met up with the cab (in a limo no less) and had introduced me to five other girls who had also been "invited" to the masquerade. The ride had been awkward and mostly silent save for the introductions we exchanged. K.P. Large green dress. Brave and witty. Likes cartoons. Sara. Red dress. Short hair. Reminds me of Raph from TMNT. Jess. Party costume dress. Young (goodgodshe'sjustakid). Blonde. Britny. Red head. Purple and black dress. Quiet. Bridgette. Also blonde. Black and white dress. Also seems quiet. These were my comrades in a sense. The other poor souls who had been dragged into this shit-fest with me and in a guilty sort of way, I was glad I wasn't alone. I hated it…being alone. Gray clouds. No sunshine. "Wait!" The stale odor of tobacco in the air. "Wait, please!" Yellow is such a miserable color. "Wait! Don't-" "I… am your host this evening…" Suddenly snagged out of my memories I spun in the direction of the haunting familiar voice and saw…''him''. Tall and dark. These two words described him perfectly, with his strange skin, and tendrils of something attached to his head. A white mask fastened onto his face. Ironically it reminded me of The Phantom of the Opera. Oh god…what…what IS he?!? The other girls also displayed their shock; KP voiced her recognition of the (I hesitated to say man) tone laced with venom. The other girls whispered wildly about his appearance until the word we all were thinking was spoken. Demon. I had seen pictures of demons, in paintings and religious texts. They were always ugly horned and sometimes winged creatures with claws that ripped and fangs that tore, and evil, evil eyes that pierced the very core of your tainted soul. They fed off your fear and pain and relished every single horrific moment of it. Demon was another suitable word for this creature. And when he asked, or rather demanded, for a dance; I couldn't say I was surprised. Britny was his first victim for the evening, and with a great amount of guilt and a margin of relief, I was glad it wasn't me. However I didn't dare take my eyes off them for one second, should the bastard try anything unsavory. We had to stay together, there was strength in a group and we could keep each other on our toes. So when the girl in the red dress, Sara, defiantly ran into the crowd of billowing dresses and shining suits, I immediately went after her. Rule number one in all things horror-related: never ever split up. Or go off with your significant other to have relations in some obscure, isolated location. Whichever the situation calls for. After pushing my way through the throngs of elaborately dressed people (aretheypartofitdotheyknowwilltheyhelpusaretheyworkingforHIM) I finally found her nursing a flute of champagne. I walked up behind her and gave her a light tap on the shoulder. "Hi Raymee." "You alright?" I asked, glancing at the empty glass in her hand. Sara grimaced and replied, "None of us are… I just needed to get away for a minute, have a drink, and clear my head." Nodding my understanding, I snagged a flute for myself and took a delicate sip. The bubbly fluid burned all the way down. We said nothing for a little while, just staring out into the crowd. Licking my dry lips I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. It was so…awkward standing here like this. Like middle schoolers at their first school dance. The image brought a dry grin to my face, comparing my dingy school gym covered in paper streamers and littered with balloons, with this incredible and beautiful ballroom, complete with unicycled staff. What a shame that the first actual ball I had been invited to was actually a trap set by some psychotic killer who was holding my grandmother ransom and was probably going to kill me later tonight. And dance on my mangled, bloody and burnt corpse. Oh god, subject change NOW. "Who did he take from you?" I had blurted it out before thinking, and was momentarily horrified at my insensitivity, but was surprised to see a rueful smile spread across Sara's face. "Just some bastard whom I have deep romantic feelings for." She replied. I stared at her surprised. She must care about him a lot if she was willing to go through this shitfest for him. Sara turned to me and returned my question. "Who did he take from you?" My grandmother's cheerful and aged face sprang into my mind and I felt my throat close up. Taking another burning sip of the alcohol and returned her gaze. "My grandmother…" I whispered. A sensation of complete unfairness washed over me. "I don't even live here you know. She and I were just visiting and fate did the rest." I finished lamely, feeling like a child. Sara gave me a smirk in return. "That fate's a twisted bitch if you ask me." I had to laugh a little at that. We all needed to laugh. God knows we need it. We had to keep our heads held high if we were going to survive this night. Which reminds me… "Sara," I said my tone turning serious, "We need to go back to the others." Sara made a face and looked like she was ready to argue but I cut her off. "Look, I know you're pissed and scared. We all are. But…we have to stay together. We…we need each other." I looked into her dark eyes that shone behind the elegant mask. "We need you." Sara was quiet for a moment. Turning to a waiter she set her empty glass down and nodded. I did the same. Together we weaved our way back to the other girls. Britny was back, I noticed and looking out to the dance floor I spotted our youngest, Jess, was now dancing with our unwanted host. As he spun her, I caught the look of distress and discomfort on her face, and the smug satisfaction on his. My blood boiled. Bastard. KP noticed our return and smiled quickly at us before returning her watchful gaze, which was turning into a glare, back to the dance floor. Bridgette and Britny smiled weakly as well before they too, looked back out to the dance floor. As the last sailing notes of the current song faded out, Jess broke away from her dance partner and quickly hurried across the floor back to us. Relief flooded her face when she spotted Sara and me; she had been worried. She walked delicately up to us, her heels clacking on the marble floor. Jess turned to Sara and gave her an apologetic look, inclining her head back to the dance floor. "You're up." She told her and Sara groaned. She grabbed her skirts, her face set in grim determination. "Let's get this over with." She said and began stomping her way up to our tormentor. I called out softly after her, "Be careful." She turned to me and nodded and continued onward. A weary sigh left my lips and my shoulders sagged. Three down, three to go. I turned to Jess and Britny. "What's it like?" Once again, I had been unable stop myself from blurting out. Fortunately, they didn't seem to take offence. Their answers however didn't put me at ease. Terrifying and be prepared. God, how could anyone, much less someone like me, be prepared for something like this? Why, that's easy Raymee, a voice in the back of my head whispered, you can't. I was so fucked. Suddenly I heard Bridgette hiss, "Oh crap. It's him." And for a wild and hysterical moment I thought she was talking about our host, but when a man with blue hair walked up to us that thought soon died. Oh yeah, I remember him, I thought eyeing him distrustfully, he's the creep who I bawled like a baby all over and is about as helpful as a nugget of cat shit. I busted out giggling as KP cheerfully cussed at him, but that mirth was snuffed out like a flame when he told Jess and Britny to come with him. No, anxiety and fear welled up inside me, no no NO! We have to stay together! KP demanded that we come as well but Waldo (which I guess was the creep-fuck's name) refused. So I watched with rapidly rising dismay and concern as the butler led our friends away from us. Wait, friends? Had these girls, whom I had barely known for a few hours, already become so dear to me to call friend? I looked to the retreating figures of Jess and Britny, to the worried faces of KP and Bridgette, to the red dancing figure that was Sara. And it was then that I realized that I indeed did care for their wellbeing. We all had just as much to lose, and if KP and Jess's behavior was any indication, we all cared about each other as well. We were in this together. Silence ruled for a moment, none of us speaking, much like how Sara and I had just minutes before. A couple dressed in matching ebony out fits and raven masks swirled past us and I could have sworn that they were leering at us. "This…so fucked up." I turned to KP who had spoken. She had a firm frown on her face as her brown eyes danced back and forth to where our two friends had disappeared and where Sara currently was. Her lip curled upwards. "I hate him." She declared glaring at the person who called himself the Red Death, "And I hate his stupid ball, his stupid dancing, and his stupid fucking ugly outfit!!" KP's nostrils flared as she stared heatedly at the dancing couple on the floor, as if she was trying to make him explode with her gaze alone. Bridgette and I glanced nervously at each other. "Um yeah," I said weakly, "He looks like a total fruitcake." KP turned slowly to me, her face serious. Then a grin broke out on her lips and she gave a snort of laughter. Bridgette giggled softly next to her and I felt myself smile as well. Suddenly Sara burst through the crowd and all light feelings died. She was breathing heavily and holding herself tightly. Immediately, we all flocked around her. "What happened?" KP demanded. Sara took a few shaking breathes and looked up to us, her eyes shining in fear. "He…he know us; he knew everything about me, all about my shit, my past, everything." What. WHAT. No, I thought as we all turned to face him in renewed terror, no he-he…knows, knows everything. All of it, every last bit, but he can't, oh god he CAN'T. Logic (or denial) came to me as my frazzled mind assured me that because I was only a tourist, and as such have been in Kite City for only a few days, there was no way he could know anything about me. …not…not that I had anything to hide… "Who," breathed Bridgette, who had been the first to recover, "who did he say was next?" her voice noticeably quivered. A surprised look jumped onto Sara's face before being replaced by a look of frustration. "Shit. I didn't-" "Ms. Phoenix," Waldo, appearing out of thin air and scaring the hell out of me, "the Master would like me to inform you that it is your turn to dance with him." KP glared at him. "Where's Jess and Britny?" she demanded. "Ms. Jean and Ms. Stewart are waiting in the parlor like I said." He replied before turning to Sara, "Which reminds me Ms. Dombrowski, if you would kindly come with me…" Sara sneered and raised her middle finger. "Up yours." Waldo gave an exasperated sigh as if we making a huge fuss over nothing, "Ladies please. The sooner you do as you're asked, the sooner this night will be over. After all Ms. Phoenix," he said turning to KP, "as I understand, you have an ill family member at home. You wouldn't want to be away from him for too long would you?" I immediately sensed something was off with his words and the tightening of KP's face confirmed it. She gave him a look of utter contempt, and I thought I saw tears beading in her eyes as well. "You and your Master," she spat the word like it was a vile curse, "can go straight to hell." "Say what you will Ms. Phoenix," Waldo replied seemingly unruffled before turning to Sara again, "Ms. Dombrowski? Sometime tonight would be adequate." Sara scowled but made her way over to his side. He began leading her away and the feeling of dread I had before doubled. "Sara!" I called out to her. I saw her turn but Waldo took her by the arm and continued leading her away. Soon they were lost in the crowd. Everything's…just falling apart. Bridgette and I stared at the place they disappeared but turned when we heard a sharp intake of breathe. KP stood there, her head lowered and fists clenched tightly at her side. Her shoulders heaved slightly at the deep breathes she was taking and I saw a lone tear run down her cheek. "KP…" I whispered reaching out to her but she quickly turned and faced the dance floor. She raised her head and quickly wiped her face. Her familiar determined look had returned and she stared forward, her eyes hard. "Alright," she whispered, "I'm going." She marched forward, head high and back straight. It was in this moment that I wished that I was like her. Able to face my fear with such bravery, to be so determined. To walk toward that creature without screaming. "KP… be really careful ok?" Bridgette called out as sea foam skirts slipped into the sea of gowns. Then we were alone. Again. Two little Indians, sitting on a stump… I thought to myself as I felt the beginnings of hysteria start to creep into my mind. I swallowed thickly and turned to my remaining comrade. She and I looked at each other. We didn't bother to smile or to joke. The entire bright atmosphere had left with KP, like when a cloud blocks the sun. All that was left was the dreary gray and shadows. "Do…do you think that we're gonna…" Bridgette began but cut herself off. But I had an idea of what she was going to say. Do you think that we're gonna be ok? Do you think that we're gonna get our loved ones back? Do you think that we're gonna ever see our friends and family again? Do you think that we're gonna get out of this alive? I didn't have an answer. I don't think I wanted one either. After a few minutes KP returned to us, looking worse for wear. Varying emotions ran across her face, ranging from fear to disgust to rage to concern. We both rushed to meet her, asking if she was ok. Her face was grim. "Guys…he's going to try to break us. He's going to use our weakness against us but we HAVE to fight him. As long as we're together…we're gonna make it." Tears sprang to my eyes for reasons I couldn't fathom. The three of us hugged each other tightly before we were rudely interrupted by; you guessed it, shit-for-brains. Oh, I mean Waldo. He informed us that it was Bridgette's turn to dance and asked that KP come with him. As Bridgette began walking towards the dance floor, and KP going with Waldo I felt the hysteria from before take hold. I grabbed out to the nearest girl to me, which happened to be KP. "KP," I gasped my eyes wide with fright. Waldo glanced at me annoyed but KP looked at me with a serious look and grasped my hand with her gloved one and squeezed tightly. Don't leave me alone! "It's gonna be ok Raymee," she said slowly, looking into my eyes, "as long as we're together...we'll be ok. I will see you in just a few minutes ok?" I nodded weakly, tears running shamelessly down my face and reluctantly released her hand. Then she was gone. I looked out to the dance floor and saw Bridgette dancing. I lowered my gaze to the floor and hugged myself suddenly feeling cold. One little Indian sitting by herself on a stump… I had never felt so helpless in all my life. And I hated it. "Gramma." I gasped as I thought of my poor old grandmother. She must be scared out of her mind right now… If she's even still alive… "Don't say that," I whispered to myself, "Don't-don't you dare even think that…" Misery seemed to be my constant companion for the evening. And frankly, it was a shitty conservationist. Glancing to the dance floor I saw Bridgette making her way back to me. Her face was white and her eyes wild like a frightened animal. She saw me and quickly walked up to me. "Raymee-" "Ms. Montello." A voice behind me spoke. I closed my eyes. "Now that you are finished dancing I request that you come with me." Bridgette was quiet for a moment but then I heard her walk slowly over to him. I heard them begin to leave but then Waldo suddenly called out. "Ms. Sullivan, don't be rude and keep the Master waiting. Surely your grandmother taught you better manners than that." That did it. I spun and began pushing my way through the crowd blindly, just wanting this night to be over. I kept pushing my way through until I hit something solid. A smoky and metallic odor greeted my nostrils and I gagged. A deep chuckle rumbled before me and I froze. Slowly lifting my head, I opened my eyes to greet the sight before me. Oh my god…he's huge. Compared to my meek five foot frame he was at least. And KP was right, his outfit was tacky. Like some 18th century crap. But as much as I wanted to be cynical and sarcastic about his fashion choices, I couldn't deny the overwhelming fear that enclosed around me like a toxic cloud, stealing my breath away. That's when it really hit me. Standing before me was murderer. A person who had mercilessly killed multiple human beings for pleasure, and was now having a little sick fun at mine and others' misery. Demon. Unnaturally long and yellow teeth grinned down at me; acidic yellow eyes paralyzed me in my place. "Shall we?" he cooed, extending his right arm, and with a nauseous feeling, I realized that I was going to have to hold the hand that he killed with. Childishly I wondered if he had bothered to wash it since his last endeavor and grasped it with my own tiny pale hand. Almost immediately music sprang from the band, a song that was dark and seductive; one that I had never heard before. He swept me across the floor, his other hand resting on the exposed part of my back and I inwardly cursed him for choosing a halter styled dress. "So," he said in his dark smooth voice, "how are you enjoying my little get together Ray-Ray?" I scowled at the nickname he gave me but said nothing. He tsked. "Raymee, baby, I would have thought that you'd have better manners than this. Didn't your granny teach you anything?" I visibly tensed at the mention of my grandmother and he laughed. I grit my teeth. "I did it." I said suddenly, surprising myself. I must have surprised him as well because he stopped and gazed curiously and amusedly at me. "Did what, baby?" I took a deep breath and clung to the sudden surge of bravery that had surfaced before it vanished again, "I did it. I came to your ball. I wore the dress. We danced. I held up my part of the bargain." The faces of the other girls flashed in my mind, "We all did. Now you keep up yours." Feeling a spike in adrenaline, I raised my gaze and stared right into those horrid yellow eyes. "Give them back." He was silent for a moment. Then he grinned and tilted his head back. And laughed. All the courage I had felt evaporated as his chilling laughter rattled me all the way to my bone marrow. Then I knew that I had done something very wrong. When he stopped laughing he stared amusedly down at me, "But Ray-Ray," he chortled, "you just got here. What's a party without a few…''games''." He purred and I felt my blood turn to ice. Somehow I don't think that 'Pin the Tail on the Donkey' and 'Seven Minutes in Heaven' were the kind of games he had in mind. "Th-that's not fair," I gasped, "Y-you never said-" "Life isn't fair Raymee," he interrupted me, his voice suddenly gone cold, "And you need to get with the program girlie. I make the rules. You follow them." Or else Gramma dies, I thought miserably. I lowered my head. "You make me sick." I whispered and he laughed again. "Why, thank you baby," he purred, pulling me against him, "in fact, I've been told by multiple people that I can be rather…" he leaned close, his hot breath scalding my ear, "contagious." I was sick of this. Sick of him, his ball, and his games. I lifted my eyes again, my own voice cold as ice. "Where's my grandmother you sick fuck?" Suddenly the ballroom went quiet. He was quiet too. Then I had a terrible feeling that I had just made a HUGE mistake. He suddenly yanked me against him, grasping my face in his other hand. Vicious eyes narrowed at me. "Raymee, Raymee. You need to learn to control that temper of yours. It could get you hurt." And then, my hand was on fire. Not literally of course, but it felt like it was. The creature had suddenly crushed my hand in his, the long claw glowing brightly, searing my skin. I cried out and tried to yank my hand away but he held on tight. "Look around you, girl." He growled, "No one is going to help you. No one cares. You. Are. Alone." And he was right. The crowd around us did nothing but watch, some were even laughing. And I was alone. All the other girls had gone with Waldo. Panic grew like a tidal wave inside me and I began hyperventilating. The creature laughed again and whispered in my ear. "Scared Ray-Ray? Scared Daddy won't come and save you, just like he didn't come last time?" My mind froze. I looked at him horrified. How did he…oh god. He knew. Laughing he released me and I ran. I ran past the other guests sobbing and gasping. I ran towards the direction where Waldo had taken the other girls and had managed to bump into the butler himself. "Ah there you are Ms. Sullivan," he said taking no notice to my hysterical state, "The others are waiting for you." I followed him without question, desperate to be among my friends. Waldo opened a door and I walked slowly inside. And screamed. They all were there, sprawled out on the floor like broken dolls, and before I could react a cloth had clamped itself down on my face. I tried to scratch and kick at my attacker but it was no use. I was too weak. I collapsed to the floor, coming nearly face to face with poor Jess. As my vision began to fade and my mind began to slip away, I heard that familiar damning chuckle. "Let's get this party started~"